


In Another Life

by Fallenstar92



Series: We'll Make It Out Alive [5]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cheating, Cute Kids, Daddy Ian, Daddy Mickey, Depression, EMT Ian, Fluff, Getting Back Together, Jealous Ian Gallagher, M/M, Miscarriage, Mpreg, Not Mickey and Ian, Parents Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Post Mpreg, Post-Break Up, Protective Ian Gallagher, Protective Lip Gallagher, Sad Mickey Milkovich, Slow Burn, Smut, Trevor bashing, good dad Mickey Milkovich, unhappy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-03-03 16:59:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 19,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13345548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallenstar92/pseuds/Fallenstar92
Summary: Part of the "We'll Make It Out Alive" Series. What if Ian never read Mickey's letter? What if he just tried to move on with his life without Mickey?Ian never looked for Mickey-just assumed Mickey had moved on without him-until he ran into Mickey while at a bar with his fiancé, Trevor, and realized how much he'd missed the other man. But does Mickey feel the same?





	1. See You Again

There was a letter stuffed in the back of Ian's underwear drawer-a reminder of a past life-that he'd never opened; he didn't need to read the damn thing to know it was just Mickey blaming him for what he'd done when he was Manic. He missed the brunette, but he had moved on without ever having to read what Mickey had written. "You ready to go?" Trevor-Ian's fiancé-asked as he stood in the doorway of Ian's bedroom. Despite being engaged, the two of them lived in separate apartments, which worked just fine for Ian; he liked having his privacy.

"Yeah, let's go." Ian agreed, kissing Trevor's cheek before leading him out of his bedroom without Trevor being any the wiser that Ian had been staring at the folded piece of paper his ex-boyfriend had left him six years ago just moments before.

 

"Can I get an Old Style and a Bud Light?" Ian asked, knowing Trevor would refuse to kiss him if he drank an Old Style, but he didn't mind; Trevor tended to be an uppity asshole on the best of days, anyway. The bartender passed Ian two bottles without much interest, sparing only a parting glance at Ian and his date. "Here ya go." Ian said, feigning happiness as he passed Trevor his drink.

"How the fuck do you drink that gross shit?" Trevor asked, scrunching up his nose in distaste.

"Grew up on it." Ian replied with a shrug, taking a long drink of his beer. 

"Whatever. That fuckin' bartender is an asshole; he was lookin' at us like we're the bane of his existence." Typical Trevor; always the victim in every situation.

"He didn't do anything, Trev." Ian sighed, already wishing he was at home alone.

"HOMOPHOBIC PRICK!" Trevor yelled when the bartender glanced up.

"We got a problem, here?" someone called, snapping Ian's attention to the newcomer behind the bar, now staring at Ian with wide, blue eyes that Ian would recognize anywhere; Mickey fucking Milkovich was standing less than twenty feet away from him.

"Your bartender is fuckin' homophobic." Trevor snapped, glaring at Mickey. "Is everyone who works here a homophobe like him? Still stuck in the middle ages?"

"Trev-" Ian was cut off by a huffed out laugh from Mickey.

"Man, your boyfriend should be able to tell you I ain't homophobic; we were together for three years. Right, Ian?" Mickey asked, looking at Ian with bitter amusement in his eyes.

"What the fuck is he talking about?" Trevor demanded, glaring at Ian, now.

"I'm Mickey. Doubt he's told you about me; after all, who tells the boyfriend about the pregnant ex-boyfriend he dumped and then never fuckin' called, right?" This was like a slap to Ian's face; what the fuck was Mickey talking about? Mickey wasn't even a carrier! "You know what? You can take your break, Patrick." Mickey said, looking away from Ian as the man reached out to cup Mickey's hip in his hand.

Ian felt an unnecessary wave of jealousy when Mickey smirked up at the taller man-who, Ian had to admit was very attractive-as he walked away. Why was Ian jealous? And what the fuck was Mickey talking about? "You're not a carrier." Ian blurted out, earning another glare from Trevor and another laugh from Mickey.

"Knew you didn't fuckin' read it." Mickey chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned on the bar. "I am, actually-got the stretch marks to prove it-and I  _was_ pregnant with your kid."

"What... Was it a..." Ian couldn't form a coherent thought; he had a fucking kid he never knew about, for Christ's sake!

"Ian, we're leaving!" Trevor snapped, tugging on Ian's arm.

"No I'm not!" Ian shouted, pulling his arm away. "Boy or girl?" He looked back at Mickey, eyes pleading.

"Dead; lost it when I was six months." Mickey replied, eyes distant and sad. "It was a girl, though."

"Mick..." What was Ian supposed to say? His ex-boyfriend-the love of his fucking life-had lost their daughter! He never read the letter that would have told him she existed, and now he finds out she was gone.

"Ian!" Trevor yelled, still trying to pull Ian out of the bar.

"Go the fuck home, Trevor!" Ian shouted, turning to glare daggers at Trevor with tears in his bright green eyes. "Please leave." Trevor nodded wordlessly and walked away from Ian and out of the bar. "I'm so fuckin' sorry, Mick."

"Not your fault, man; shit happens. Do I miss Ana? Every-damn-day, but she's gone." Mickey said calmly, his blue eyes locked on Ian's green ones. "You moved on, and so did I."

"With  _Patrick?"_ Ian practically growled.

"With whoever the fuck can make me forget for a night." Mickey replied, seemingly not caring that it hurt Ian.

 

Ian couldn't sleep that night; kept dreaming about what his daughter would've looked like when he would doze off, and Mickey's words kept ringing in his head when he was awake. Mickey was fucking other men, and it killed Ian because he had no right to be jealous when he was engaged to another man. Ian couldn't help it, though; he wanted Mickey to himself. He always had, and always would.


	2. Show Me How To Forget

Sex with Trevor had never been phenomenal, but after running into Mickey he'd had no interest in fucking-or being fucked by-the man who had been sharing a bed with him. For the two weeks since he'd run into his ex he'd managed to marginally satisfy Trevor with oral sex or fingering him and blaming his medications when Trevor would notice that Ian wasn't remotely hard. "How are you not hard? That was fucking hot!" Trevor exclaimed when he pulled off Ian's still flaccid cock.

"I told you; my meds are fuckin' with me." Ian lied, again, not feeling remotely guilty for losing interest in sex with his fiancé. When Trevor had proposed to him, Ian thought he could learn to love him-that he could convince himself that being with Trevor was better than being alone-but when he'd seen Mickey, he knew he could never love Trevor the way Trevor thought he did.

"How long is this gonna last?" Trevor asked, flopping back onto the pillows behind him.

"I'm sorry my dick isn't hard, Trev, but I can't help it." Ian sighed, wishing Trevor would fucking drop it so Ian could head back to his own apartment.

"Is this about that guy at the bar?" Trevor asked, causing the hackles on Ian's neck to stand on ends; Trevor had no fucking right to talk about Mickey, at all.

"No, this is about my medications. And don't talk about Mickey." Ian snapped, standing up and throwing his clothes on as fast as he could. "I'm leaving." With that, Ian was darting out the door.

 

"We ever gonna talk about your baby-daddy bein' here?" Patrick asked Mickey as they tucked their softening cocks back into their jeans.

"Don't gotta talk about it; he's got a boyfriend and Anastasia's fuckin' gone." Even though it still hurt that he'd never get to watch his daughter-his little Anastasia Loraine Gallagher-grow, Mickey knew that dwelling on Ian would never bring her back to life. "Look, we're not fuckin' boyfriends, Patrick, and it don't matter if I saw Ian again, right this minute; Ian fuckin' dumped my ass and I lost the last piece of him I wanted." Mickey and Patrick were pretty good friends, but that didn't mean Mickey wanted to talk to him about losing his baby four and a half years ago.

"I know you-Mickey, not Alex-and I remember how fucked up you were when you lost Ana; remember how all you wanted was for Ian to be there with you afterwards. Say you hate him all you want, Mick, but I know Ian's still it for you." Patrick walked away without another word, leaving Mickey alone with his thoughts and wishing he'd let Patrick fuck him instead of trading handjobs so he could forget the empty ache he'd had in his chest since he lost Anastasia for just a little longer.

 

"Hey, Mandy." Mickey croaked into the phone as he walked into his apartment, not bothering to hide the fact that he'd been crying to his sister.

 _"What's goin' on?"_ Mandy asked, ready to attack for her-still emotionally damaged-brother.

"Saw Ian a few days ago, and... Fuck, I miss her Mands; I miss my baby." Mickey sniffed, laying a hand over his flat abdomen.

 _"You saw... Did you tell him?"_ Mickey could hear the shock in Mandy's voice as he slid down the wall, but he was far too fucked up for him to care.

"Yeah." Mickey managed through gasps and sobs. "I want her back." All Mickey wanted was his baby back, but no amount of praying, begging, or crying would empty the grave he'd watched his infant's body being lowered into.

 

Ian didn't know why he did it, but he found himself looking through old obituaries, trying to find his daughter. He eventually stumbled across the exact obituary he was looking for, though he wished he hadn't.

_"Anastasia Loraine Gallagher. Stillborn. Anastasia was proceeded in death by her grandmother, Tatia, and is survived by her father, Alexander, and numerous Aunts and Uncles."_

Her whole life consisted of less than a paragraph. Ian felt so fucking sick as he looked at the twenty-six words that told him almost nothing about his child; he knew her full name-and that Mickey had given her the last name "Gallagher"-but he didn't know what she looked like or if Mickey had someone by his side when he was given the news that his child was gone forever. Ian felt like the worst piece of shit on earth, and there was absolutely nothing he could do to make it up to Mickey or Anastasia.


	3. I'm Here

Ian didn't even know if Mickey would speak to him when he arrived back at the bar he'd seen him in a month ago, but he had to try; he needed to see Mickey, again. "Boyfriend didn't wanna come with you to see the ex?" Mickey asked as he wiped the bar, not bothering to look up at Ian.

"Trev doesn't know I'm here." Ian admitted, taking a seat at the bar in front of the exhausted-looking brunette man.

"So, what'd you do with the letter? Shred it? Burn it? Let Liam fuckin' draw on it?" Mickey fired off as his tired blue eyes met Ian's sad green ones.

"I've had it the whole time; couldn't read it when Lana told me it was your goodbye, but I couldn't get rid of it." Ian had never even admitted to himself that he hadn't read Mickey's letter out of his selfish need to hold onto Mickey, but he had never truly been able to lie to the beautiful blue eyed man staring at him, now. "I didn't even know about Ana until a month ago, and now... Now I feel like there's this..." Ian couldn't find the right words to describe the emptiness he'd felt over the past month.

"A hole. Yeah, I know this shit, Ian; I've been livin' with the fuckin' fact that I killed my daughter for almost five years." Mickey snapped, causing Ian to physically flinch and other bar patrons to look at the pair.

"You didn't kill her, Mickey; you had a late-term miscarriage." Ian adamantly stated, making sure he was loud enough for the people around him to hear. "I know it fuckin' hurts, Mick, but you couldn't help what happened to Ana." Mickey still fucking hated Ian for never seeking him out or even reading his letter, but the way he was looking at Mickey, right now-with so much intensity and raw honesty-made Mickey want to trust him.

"You weren't there." Mickey rasped, stepping out from behind the bar so he could be closer to Ian and make their conversation-somewhat-more private. "I fuckin' went into labor, Ian; I gave birth to our daughter alone, and had to listen to that goddamn  _quiet_ when she never even took a fuckin' breath. You're here 'cause you wanna clear your conscience? You can't, 'cause I had to mourn our baby without you."

"I don't wanna clear my conscience, Mick, because I know I can never take back leavin' you alone to grieve losin' our girl. I just wanna be a friend to the person I hurt more than anyone else; I wanna be there for you if you need me, even though I was too late, last time." Ian said, honestly; he may end up in an unhappy, loveless marriage with Trevor, but he didn't intend to put Mickey through his crazy shit, again, when he'd already been through so much.

"Your boyfriend don't like me." Mickey mused, a hint of a smirk playing on the edges of his lips. Ian was getting the feeling that Mickey hadn't actually smiled in a long time.

"Trevor doesn't like anyone who isn't just like him." Ian chuckled, remembering all the times Trevor had tried to turn Ian into someone he wasn't over the past two years.

"Why are you with him, then?" Mickey asked with genuine curiosity, taking a seat on the stool next to Ian.

"He didn't run off when he found out I'm bipolar, so I didn't run off when he'd call me transphobic." Ian admitted quietly.

"No shit." Mickey whistled, signaling Patrick over to pour them both a drink.

"Shouldn't you be behind the bar?" Ian managed to ask, his eyes locked on Mickey's throat as he downed his drink.

"Manager." Mickey replied shortly.

"Why are you even talkin' to me?" Ian hadn't meant for that to come out, but he couldn't help wondering.

"You may not have known about Ana until a month ago, but she was your daughter, too; you lost your daughter, same as me. So, I figure I might as well let you fuckin' wallow in misery with me." Mickey answered, causing a dull ache to radiate through Ian's chest as he realized Mickey was just drowning his pain; sex, alcohol, it didn't seem to matter, as long as Mickey didn't have to think about what he was forced to live without.

"Have you ever thought about..." Ian wasn't sure he could ask; wasn't sure he wanted to know if Mickey had considered giving another man what he'd carelessly thrown away.

"What? Think about havin' another one? Fuck no, man; I'd probably fuckin' lay down and die if I had to go through this shit, again." Mickey informed Ian sadly. "I really wanted my baby, but... Guess it wasn't supposed to happen."

"You'd be a good dad, Mick; Hell, you cared about Yevgeny even though he wasn't yours." Ian said, laying his hand over Mickey's. Even now, Ian could feel the same tingling spark he'd always felt when touching Mickey's gorgeous fucking pale skin. "Don't... Don't close yourself off to the possiblity of having a baby at some point."

"So you're fuckin' a guy who used to be a girl... Always thought you were scared of pussy." Mickey attempted to joke so he could change the subject from Anastasia.

"Wasn't into it, he wouldn't drop the subject and just be my friend, I caved... See why you like bottoming, now." Ian said with a smirk when Mickey choked on his drink.

"You let someone fuck you?!" Mickey laughed-a real, authentic, beautiful laugh-with his eyes wide.

"He doesn't bottom." Ian managed to admit.

"Man, I ain't got no right to say anything about your fuckin' boyfriend, but I gotta ask... Why are you still with him?" Mickey seemed... Almost concerned for Ian, and that warmed Ian's heart.

"I don't know." Ian confessed. "Honestly? I think it was 'cause I thought you'd completely moved on, so I should, too."

"Do you love him?" Mickey's question hit home, because no, Ian didn't love Trevor. Not at all.

"No." Ian finally said, wishing he could kiss Mickey. He realized in that moment that he didn't need to see Mickey because he wanted to be his friend; he needed to be able to grieve the loss of their child with the love of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me some comments, lovelies! Much love!


	4. It's Too Late For You To Fall Apart

Bipolar disorder is a fucking mess at the best of times, add in the recent knowledge that his child had died and his ex-the man he was still in love with-was using sex-and possibly other outlets-to cope with the loss, and Ian was essentially a ticking time bomb. Sadly, the day that time bomb decided to explode in a cloud of depression was Ian's niece, Franny's, birthday.

"Debs sent you a cupcake; it's peanut butter." Fiona said softly, running her fingers through Ian's hair as he laid in his bed with his light blue sheets wrapped tightly around him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Ian worked out that Anastasia's birthday should have fallen in December-just like Franny-and it was destroying him to think that she should've been turning five, soon, just as his niece was, today. "Sweetface... It's not your fault, anymore than it is Mickey's that she's gone."

"Ian, man, can you at least tell us what your phone's password is?" Lip asked, moving to sit next to Fiona on Ian's bed. "I tried your birthday, your and Trevor's anniversary, and Trevor's birthday, but none of 'em worked."

"Zero-eight-ten." Ian managed to rasp out-which took far too much effort-as he tightened the covers around himself.

"You know what that is?" Lip quietly asked his sister as he typed the password in.

"Mickey's birthday." Fiona said, remembering the period of time when Mickey lived with the Gallagher family and Ian had insisted on making Mickey his favorite pancakes on the morning of August tenth, only revealing the reason when he pulled Mickey into a kiss as he descended the stairs and whispered "happy birthday, handsome" against the brunette's lips.

"Makes sense. I'll be back, Ian." Lip promised, patting his brother's leg as he stood up to exit Ian's bedroom and make his call.

 

"Why didn't you call his damn boyfriend?" Mickey complained as he walked into Ian's apartment less than fifteen minutes after Lip had called him saying Ian needed him.

"Honestly? I tried. He didn't pick up the fuckin' phone. And then I realized he needed you, not Trevor." Lip said, ushering Mickey towards the bedroom the whole time.

"How long's he been in bed?" Mickey asked Fiona, trying not to notice how small Ian looked at that moment.

"That we know of? All day, today." Fiona sighed, scooting over to make room on the bed for Mickey. "Only thing he's even said was when he told Lip the password for his phone."

"You come over to check on him everyday?" Mickey asked, realizing that-in the five months he and Ian had been rebuilding the friendship they had once had-Ian had never mentioned his siblings still checking on him, constantly.

"No, it's Franny's birthday and Ian never showed up." Fiona informed Mickey as the brunette man tried to remember who Franny was to the Gallagher family. "Debbie's daughter." Fiona offered, clearly trying to help him.

"How old?" Mickey asked, taking over stroking Ian's hair where Fiona had stopped.

"Five." Fiona reluctantly replied, seeing a look of hurt in Mickey's eyes.

"My due date was December seventeenth.... Ana would've been five in two weeks." Mickey's words cause Ian to curl in further on himself and Fiona's chest to tighten; he'd been living with the death of his child for so long.

"Explains this." Fiona sighed, placing her right hand on Mickey's shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I told him, and I'll tell you; losin' her? It wasn't your fault."

"Try tellin' me that on a bad day." Mickey drawled out, though his attempt at sarcasm just made Fiona kiss his cheek as she stood up. "The fuck was that for?" His question had no venom to it, which made Fiona sadder if that was even possible.

"You didn't have to come over and comfort your ex, but you're doin' it. So thank you." Fiona left the room before Mickey could say anything, leaving him alone with the unusually quiet redhead. "Where're you goin'?" Fiona asked Lip as he buttoned his coat.

"Mickey had to call the owner of the bar in so he could be here for Ian, why the hell can't Trevor be here?" Fiona was angry, too, but she was controlling herself better than Lip was as he frantically pulled on his beanie and gloves.

"What're you planning on doin'? He's not gonna magically care about someone other than himself just 'cause you showed up on his doorstep." Fiona attempted to reason with her oldest brother as the blond picked up Ian's keys.

"I'm not just gonna show up on his doorstep; I'm gonna go drag his ass outta bed." Lip seethed before turning and exiting the apartment with a slam of the door behind him.

 

"Think you should call whoever "Ian" is back?" Dave-a fat guy Trevor had picked up for the night when Ian never answered his texts or calls-asked Trevor as he redressed himself.

"He's my fiancée, but no. I don't think I should call him back." Trevor responded, already bored with his most recent bedmate. Anytime Ian needed his medication adjusted, pissed him off, or Trevor just felt bad about himself he wound up at the same club looking for some fat fuck who would worship him for the night, though Dave wasn't exactly helping; he was too talkative, and it wasn't about how hot Trevor was.

"Hey,  _brother-in-law,_ so fuckin' nice of you pick up the phone, today!" Lip shouted as he entered Trevor's bedroom, snapping several pictures on his phone as he spoke. "Ian's gonna love this shit; you make him feel like  _he's_ the asshole and you do this?" Lip could hear Trevor cursing under his breath, but he truly didn't give a shit as long as his brother didn't wind up getting hurt, anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you guys think Ian will feel relieved or be hurt? Leave me some comments to let me know! Much love!


	5. I'll Say I'm Fine And Mean It

"You can't fuckin' show him this shit, Phillip." Mickey seethed, shoving Lip's phone back into his hands. "That's the guy he was gonna marry."

"This isn't the first time, Mickey-Hell, he made Ian listen while he was fuckin' some guy, before-but Ian never thought it was a big fuckin' deal. Now he might." Lip informed Mickey quietly, closing the gallery on his phone. "I told Ian when he was sixteen that the best part of falling for you was he could always find someone better, but I was wrong; you did everything for Ian."

"Just 'cause Ian  _might_ dump this asshole don't mean we're gettin' back together." Mickey argued, looking towards Ian's bedroom door, relieved to see it was still closed and Fiona was clearly still inside with her brother. Mickey would never deny loving Ian Gallagher, but Ian had made his choice five years ago, and that choice was to walk away from Mickey and move on with his life.

"He still loves you, Mick." Lip said, clearly hoping it would convince Mickey to try and win Ian back.

"That was a long time ago, man; he loves some memory of me." Mickey knew he was reaching-he'd noticed how Ian gravitated towards him when they'd hang out or even an hour ago when Mickey had been beside him in his bed-but he'd held on to the memory of how much it had hurt him when Ian had stomped on his heart.

"I know it had to hurt when he broke it off, but Ian never loved Trevor; it was always you." Lip stood up and patted Mickey on the back as he spoke, making his way to Ian's room and leaving Mickey alone with his thoughts.

 

"Hey... Fiona and Lip left, so it's just... Us." Mickey nervously stated, taking a seat on Ian's bed next to the redhead. "She was really small, but... She looked like you."

"Why are you here?" Ian asked, tears falling onto his pillow.

"'Cause you needed me." Mickey admitted, laying down next to Ian.

"I was a dick to you." Ian lamented, slowing moving his hand to lay it over Mickey's flat abdomen.

"I was, too, so we're even." Mickey awkwardly joked. "Lip told you, didn't he?"

"I already knew." Ian confirmed, curling himself tighter around Mickey. "Not the first time, and it won't be the last."

"You need to leave him, Ian; this shit? It's not right." Mickey said quietly.

"I don't wanna end up alone." Ian nearly sobbed, clutching Mickey's t-shirt.

"You won't." Mickey promised, wishing he could offer Ian something more than some meaningless words and a body to hold onto, but that seemed to be all he needed right at this moment. Ian's cries gradually quieted and his breathing evened out, but Mickey made no move to get away; he just allowed Ian to cling to him in his sleep. "You won't be alone, Ian." Mickey whispered as he drifted off to sleep with Ian in his arms, exactly like he'd dreamt of every night for the past five years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter was super short, but it was actually just a sort of filler chapter to show that Ian and Mickey have gotten pretty close. Leave me some comments to let me know what you thought of this chapter. Much love!


	6. I Gave You My World And I Promised To Love You

It had been over a week since Ian had last seen the man he had once planned to spend his life with, and he wasn't exactly sure he wanted to see him even after he'd called, but Mickey and Lip both thought figuring shit with Trevor out was what Ian had meant when he relayed that his therapist had told him to "stop hiding from confrontation and express your feelings without fear, Ian" and Ian had yet to correct them. What had Ian and his therapist  _really_ been talking about? Simple; the brunette currently sitting next to Ian on his cramped couch as some shitty 80's action movie played on the TV in front of them. Ian had known for months that he wanted Mickey back, but after Mickey had spent three days laying in bed with him while he slowly recovered from his depressive episode? Ian had never wanted anything more in his life.

"What're you gonna do about fuckhead?" Mickey asked, lighting a cigarette without looking away from the TV screen.

"Pretty sure it's over." Ian replied with a shrug, snatching the cigarette out of Mickey's hand with a please smirk at the pathetic whine Mickey let out as he tried to steal it back. "I'll give it back, calm your tits." Ian chuckled, taking a drag of the cigarette-which was difficult given the fact that he had himself bent backwards with his empty hand holding Mickey back-before passing it back to the brunette. "Happy now?"

"Fuck yes I'm happy." Mickey snapped. "And "pretty sure" it's over? Lip got fuckin' pictures of whatever fat fuck Travis was screwin' gettin' dressed in his room." Mickey's smoke curled delicately in the air, making intricate designs above his head, almost creating the allusion of a halo over his dark hair.

"I don't wanna be alone; if I dump him? I'm alone. I'll live with it, Mick." Ian tried to promise, though his eyes looked far too sad.

"Ian, man, you're hot as fuck, you're a good person, and-not that it's important or anything-but you're a fuckin' awesome lay." Mickey said, finally turning to fully face Ian. "You don't gotta live like that just 'cause you're scared to be lonely."

"He does care about me." Ian said, attempting to defend Trevor. "His name is Trevor, not Travis, by the way."

"Like I fuckin' care." Mickey growled. Ian didn't want to be too hopeful, but Mickey looked... Jealous. "Dump his ass and move on."

"To who?" Ian asked, fucking  _praying_ that Mickey said him.

"How the fuck should I know? Some guy with a tight ass or a huge cock that don't treat you like shit, I guess, Jesus, Ian." Mickey groaned, clearly irritated with his friend-and former lover-being so needy. "This movie fuckin' sucks ass." Ian laughed and nodded-despite not having paid a bit of attention to the TV screen-as he swallowed his disappointment and changed the channel.

 

Mickey looked so peaceful once he'd fallen asleep on Ian's couch halfway through the third movie they'd started while Ian still sat there like a fucking dumbass waiting for Trevor. Ian didn't mind, though; he was getting to watch the handsome raven-haired man sleep peacefully at his side with his head resting on the arm of the sofa.

_Trev (5:15PM): In the elevator. You home?_

_Ian (5:16PM): Yeah. Had the locks changed, so don't bother with the key._

Ian knew Trevor would be pissed off about him having the locks changed-even more so if he finds out that his ex-boyfriend has a key for the new locks-but he no longer gave two shits; he was over Trevor before Lip had even finished talking about the man he'd caught his soon-to-be ex-fiancé with. When a knock sounded at the door Ian draped a blanket over Mickey before standing up and opening the door just enough to talk to the brown-eyed man.

"Why'd you change the locks?" Trevor asked, trying to step into the apartment around Ian.

"Because I was done before I called you." Ian said plainly, standing his ground when Trevor tried again to shove him aside.

"Excuse me?" Trevor had the fucking audacity to look shocked as he questioned the redhead standing in front of him. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Did you think Lip wasn't gonna tell me? Did you think I would just  _overlook_ you fucking some other guy while I was layin' in bed too fuckin' depressed to move?" Ian's questions were rhetorical, but he was ready to be done with with the man he'd once been ready to settle for.

"Why the fuck are you doing this, Ian? Why are you leaving me over this shit? You know I do it!" Yes, Ian does know that Trevor has a tendency to go to a "Bear" club to fuck overweight men when he was upset at Ian, but Mickey had been right; he didn't have to put up with it.

"Because I deserve better than an asshole who fucked someone else in front of me because he got pissed off! I should find someone who loves me; someone I love." Ian informed Trevor, feeling a weight being lifted off his shoulders.

"This is about  _him."_ Trevor spat, causing an actual fucking growl to sound in Ian's throat.

"Yes! It's about Mickey; it's about the man I love more than anyone else, and who loved me even when I fucked up! He loved me enough to be here for me the first time I went into a depressive episode, and he still cares enough now to be here with me last week! You asked me to marry you-sure-but Mickey actually fuckin' loved me! And I still love him." Ian turned fast enough to pick up the box of Trevor's belongings-that Mickey had helped him pack between movies-and hand it to his ex without letting Trevor in. "Keep anything I left at your place-I don't want it-and just go. I gave you two years, and I'm not giving you another fuckin' second."

Ian slammed the door before Trevor could say another word, only to turn around and see Mickey standing next to the couch. "Ian-" Ian cut Mickey off by rushing to stand in front of Mickey and pull him into a hug.

"I know you don't love me, anymore, but that doesn't change shit." Ian whispered into Mickey's neck. "Look, I know just... If you need me to do anything for you, I'll do it." Ian promised the former thug as he pulled away from him, staring into his blue eyes for some sign that Mickey felt strange around him after hearing what Ian told Trevor.

"You told me not to "close myself off to havin' a baby" after I lost Ana. You wanna do somethin' for me? I want a baby." Mickey said to a stunned silent Ian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter down! Leave me some comments and let me know what you thought of this chapter. Much love!


	7. It's A Shame You Don't Know What You're Running From

"You... You wanna get back together?" Ian managed to stutter out hopefully.

"Fuck no; we didn't work five years ago, why would we work, now? No, I just trust you enough to let you fuck me without a condom and I want a baby." Mickey explained, taking his shirt off and throwing it aside. "Look, I'm not gonna say I don't love you-'cause I really fuckin' do-but I don't wanna set myself up for some shit when you get sick of me, again, I know you'd be a good dad to our kid, though." Mickey noticed Ian's trepidation. "If you don't wanna-"

Ian kissed Mickey with everything he had in him, pulling the man's hips flush against his own. He knew this was all Mickey wanted, right now, but he wanted take advantage of having Mickey to himself, even if it was only for a moment. "I want you. No matter how I get you." Ian murmured, kissing along the other man's jaw-pulling away only long enough to rip his shirt over his head-and moaning low in his throat at the smell of Mickey's skin; the smell he'd once been so addicted to. Both men were stripping off their pants in record time, trying to keep their bodies pressed so close to each other that not even air could pass between them.

"Come 'ere." Mickey panted, pulling Ian into a hard kiss before dropping his left hand and putting it in Ian's boxer briefs and stroking his cock.

"Bedroom." Ian gasped, removing Mickey's hand from his boxer briefs and pulling him into the bedroom, determined to tear Mickey apart. Once Ian had Mickey laying on his bed, he crawled up slowly from the foot of the bed and took Mickey's hard cock in his mouth and moaning at the taste and feeling of the column of flesh-throbbing and hot-on his tongue. Fuck, he'd missed sucking cock so fucking much over the past two years, and Mickey's cock had always been an obsession of Ian's; it wasn't as large as his own-not as long or thick-but Mickey's dick was a decent size at six inches and felt fucking fantastic in Ian's hand or mouth any time they were together. 

"Ian! Fuck me, please..." Mickey panted above him as Ian tried to retrieve the bottle of lube he kept in his bedside drawer without looking away from Mickey's flushed chest and his thrown back head the whole time he bobbed his head on the brunette man's erection. Ian was rather pleased with himself when he finally managed to find the bottle of lube, slick his fingers, and start fingering Mickey open all without taking his eyes off the beautifully wrecked man below him. "You gotta stop!" Mickey ordered, pulling Ian off his cock by his hair. "I'm good, so fuck me."

"You sure you want this, Mick? There's a chance they'd be Bipolar." Ian said, reaching into the drawer for a condom incase Mickey decided he didn't want to risk his child being Bipolar by having them with Ian.

"If I'm havin' the fuckin' kid I get to decide who I have it with." Mickey said, taking the condom out of Ian's hand and tossing it away. "So fuck me, already." Ian didn't need any further prompting to slick up his own dick and slowly inch into Mickey's welcoming heat.

"Shit, I missed this." Ian hissed, burying his face in Mickey's neck as he started to slowly thrust and roll his hips.

"There!" Mickey moaned, meeting Ian's thrusts as the redheaded man's cock slowly dragged over his prostate. "Faster! Please, baby, faster; harder." Mickey babbled, clearly already too far gone to realize what he'd just called Ian, but it spurred the redhead on,  causing him to piston his hips faster and harder into the body below him, filling the room with the sound of skin slapping, accompanied by moans and grunts of pleasure as both men chased their orgasms.

"You feel so fuckin' good." Ian groaned, squeezing Mickey's hips as the blue-eyed man frantically canted his hips back against his own. Ian knew he wouldn't last much longer with Mickey's ass clenching down on him and the fucking  _sounds_ pouring past those plush pink lips, so he started jerking Mickey's cock fast and hard, causing Mickey's eyes to roll back in his head.

"Ian!" Mickey screamed as hot cum coated Ian's fist and his ass clenched down harder on Ian, milking the green-eyed man's release from him.

 

"I'll do whatever I have to do to make you love me, again." Ian promised as they laid in his bed several hours-and two mind-blowing rounds of sex-later, limbs tangled and Mickey's head resting over Ian's still pounding heart.

"Lovin' you ain't the problem; it's tryin' to move on with my life when you throw me away like it all meant nothing." Mickey said quietly, tracing shapes on Ian's sweat-drenched skin with the tips of his tattooed fingers.

"I'm not gonna make that mistake, again." Ian swore, kissing Mickey's black hair. "You're it for me, Mick; we're endgame."

"The fuck does that mean?" Mickey asked in a snorted out laugh.

"It means we're forever; we might have a few breakups here and there, but we'll find our way back to each other, because we're supposed to be together." Ian explained, trying to remember why he never went looking for Mickey over the five years they were apart. "I'm sorry I didn't look for you."

"Wouldn't have made a damn bit of difference." Mickey muttered, eyes feeling heavy.

"I'm gonna spend the rest of my life showin' you that I'm not the same fuckin' idiot I was when I was seventeen; I'll love you the way you deserve to be loved this time, Mick." Ian promised, running his fingers through Mickey's messy hair. "I love you." Ian knew Mickey was asleep, but he needed Mickey to know just how much he loved him, even if he was disclosing that information to the sleeping form resting on his chest.

 

_"Had to go home so I'd be able to wear clean clothes to work. I'll see you tomorrow unless you decide to stop by the bar, tonight. You should.-M."_

Ian read the note Mickey had left on his kitchen counter several times, smiling the whole time; he'd get Mickey back, even if it took years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me some comments, Beauties! Much love!


	8. With You, I'm A Beautiful Mess

"So, you're not "together", but you're sleepin' with him?" Fiona questioned after she'd snatched Ian's phone out of his hand and read his conversation with Mickey-which had been them making plans for the next week when Ian would have vacation time mixed in with random nudes-and had forced him to explain the situation to her.

"Yeah." Ian said, shrugging off his sister's skepticism. "Mick wants a baby and that's all it is." Lie; Ian still wanted more, but over the past month Mickey showed no signs of changing his mind.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, sweetface? We all know how you feel about Mickey." Fiona wryly stated, hoping Ian would realize he was setting himself up for heartache by sleeping with Mickey with no hope of a relationship.

"We lost our daughter, Fiona; this is our chance to have the baby we should've had five years ago. Hell, I get to  _be there_ this time. Mick may not be in love with me, anymore, or want a relationship, but he wants a baby with me, and I want one with him." Ian said confidently.

 

"Stop!" Mickey laughed as Ian tickled his side as they lay naked in Mickey's bed. "Ian! Stop!" Mickey wheezed as he laughed harder, trying to squirm away from Ian.

"Alright, fine." Ian sighed, flopping onto his back and watching Mickey with a fond smile. "You're so beautiful. You know that, right?"

"Fuck off." Mickey said with a smirk. "I ain't fuckin' beautiful."

"Yes you are; those eyes, alone, would make most people fall in love." Ian never used to be sappy after sex, but he'd recently fallen into a pattern of waxing poetic about Mickey as they laid in bed, together. "Hope the baby has your eyes."

"Ian..." Mickey knew what Ian was thinking-he'd be a fucking idiot not to-but he couldn't put himself through losing Ian, again; he almost lost his fucking mind, last time. "I can't." Mickey managed, though his eyes looked far sadder than Ian would have expected.

"I'm not goin' anywhere, Mick; I take my meds, I go to therapy... I'm doin' okay. And I don't wanna lose you just 'cause you got pregnant and were done with me." Ian hadn't realized until the words came tumbling out of his mouth how much he desperately needed Mickey to stay; how much it would fucking kill him if Mickey were to leave, again.

"God, we're a fuckin' mess, man." Mickey laughed, his eyes focused on the cracks in the ceiling to avoid looking at Ian.

"Apart, yeah we are; a complete fuckin' mess. Hell, even together, but when we are? We're this... Beautiful fuckin' mess that just... Belongs." Ian couldn't think of a better way to word his thoughts, and he hoped Mickey understood.

"I don't wanna be alone, again." Mickey whispered as he rolled over, burying his face in Ian's neck.

"Never again, baby." Ian promised the vulnerable brunette as he sat up, pulling Mickey to straddle his lap so he'd have no choice but to look at him. "I'm never gonna make that mistake, again, Mick; I'm right here-with you-for the rest of my fuckin' life."

"Fuckin' promises don't mean shit." Mickey mumbled, looking down at the simple tattoo of an "M" over Ian's heart. "Monica?" Mickey guessed, tracing the elegantly swirling letter with his index finger. Ian had informed him that his mother had taken her own life a year after their breakup, so a simple memorial piece to her was the only logical explanation Mickey could find.

"That's what I'd tell Trevor when he'd ask; everyone else knew the truth, though." Ian replied, taking Mickey's free hand and lacing their fingers together. "I got that a week before Monica died. I'd had a really hard day and I just kept thinkin' "I want Mickey; he'd be able to make me laugh and forget all this shit!" so I had the tattoo artist put you over my heart."

"You got a tattoo for me." Mickey breathed, looking up into Ian's eyes. It may have seemed cheesy, but Ian had permanently marked his fucking skin for him-branded himself as Mickey's-and that caused something in Mickey to shift. He leaned forward without another word and connected his lips to Ian's, kissing him with more passion and love than he could ever remember feeling for anyone.

"I love you." Ian panted when their lips finally disconnected, gazing into Mickey's endlessly blue eyes as if he were seeing light for the first time. "I love you so fuckin' much, Mickey."

"I love you." Mickey replied with a sappy fucking smile firmly plastered on his face as he leaned in for another kiss. Nothing else in the world mattered to him in that moment; he had his Gallagher back.


	9. Your Eyes Feel Like Comin' Home

Ian woke up to a comfortable and warm feeling with Mickey pressed against his chest. It had been two weeks of them actually living as a couple, and Ian had never felt better. "Morning, beautiful." Ian whispered into Mickey's soft black hair, taking a long, slow sniff of his boyfriend's natural scent; a smell he'd always loved.

"Mornin'." Mickey yawned, snuggling further into Ian's warm chest. "Don' wanna get up, yet."

"I gotta go to work, baby." Ian cooed, placing kisses all over Mickey's face. "You goin' home, tonight, or are you comin' back over?"

"Gotta go home, eventually." Mickey slurred, breathing in the scent of Ian's skin.

"Wish you didn't." Ian sighed, wishing Mickey never had to leave his side.

"You'd get sick of me, eventually." Mickey chuckled softly. "I snore."

"I talk in my sleep, so we're good." Ian replied, hoping Mickey would actually consider moving in with him.

"Gonna be fuckin' cryin' and pukin' all the time once I get pregnant." Mickey said as a form of warning.

"And I'll be right there holdin' your hand through it all." Ian said, moving Mickey to straddle his waist. "I'll sit with you in the bathroom; rub your back and give you a ginger ale when you're done pukin'. And anytime you start cryin'? I'll be there with fuckin' tissues."

"You seriously want this?" Mickey asked, tracing the tattooed M over Ian's heart with the pad of his index finger. "You want me to fuckin' live with you?"

"Live with me, marry me, have a bunch of little Milkovich/Gallagher babies together... Everything." Ian sighed dreamily, stroking Mickey's back lovingly.

"Not a fuckin' baby machine." Mickey scoffed, smoothing down Ian's messy red hair. "Ain't gonna spend the rest of my damn life knocked up."

"Three?" Ian tried as a compromise. "Three fuckin' gorgeous little brunettes with those big blue eyes."

"What're they gettin' from you in this fantasy of yours?" Mickey asked, completely amused by Ian's dream of their future, together.

"My height." Ian replied with a smirk, resulting in Mickey slapping his chest. "Ouch!"

"I'm not that fuckin' short, asshole." Mickey snapped, slapping Ian, again. "Just 'cause I ain't some damn giant like you don't mean shit."

"I love my baby bein' short." Ian cooed, nuzzling his nose into Mickey's neck. "You're so damn cute, baby." Ian's alarm went off, making Ian and Mickey both groan. "I gotta get up. See you tonight?"

"Fuckin' better, asshole." Mickey snarked, leaning in for one final kiss.

 

"How's Mickey doin'?" Lip asked his brother as they waited in line at a Starbucks near the dispatch garage.

"Good... Gonna make it work, this time." Ian replied happily, thinking back to this morning in bed with his beloved brunette. "Ready to start gettin' shit set up for the baby."

"What can I get you two?" The barista-who's name tag read "Lola"-asked Ian, completely ignoring Lip as she twisted a strand of strawberry blonde hair around her finger. 

"Grande black coffee." Ian ordered, trying to ignore how the woman stared at him; he had no interest in women, as it was, but the blonde with her entire arms covered in overly colorful tattoos and so many piercing Ian could barely make out his facial features was trying far too hard to garner his attention. "Anyway, it's only been about a month, but Mick and I are both ready for our baby to be here."

"What about you, sweetie?" Lola asked, turning to Lip when she realized Ian wasn't interested.

"I have no idea what to get here. What would you suggest, Lola?" Lip asked, leaning on the counter and smiling at the pretty woman.

"I like the cinnamon dolce latte; real sweet." Lola practically fucking purred at the elder Gallagher. 

"Sounds good." Lip replied with a wink. God, these two were fucking pathetic; Ian wanted nothing more than to be back in bed with Mickey. Lola rang the Gallagher brothers up and scurried around making their coffee as Ian moved to text his boyfriend and avoid his pining brother.

_Ian (8:45 AM): Miss you, already._

_Mick <3 (8:46 AM): Shoulda thought about that before leavin me alone in bed._

_Ian (8:47 AM): Next time I'll stay in bed with you all day, baby._

_Mick <3 (8:48 AM): Phillip drivin you nuts?_

_Ian (8:49 AM): Flirtin with the barista who started out flirtin with me._

_Mick <3 (8:50 AM): Fuckin bitch better back up!_

_Ian (8:51 AM): Easy, baby; you know I'm not into vagina._

_Mick <3 (8:52 AM): Better fuckin not be or I'd be wastin my fuckin time._

_Ian (8:53 AM): Shut up and go back to sleep._

_Mick <3 (8:54 AM): Forgettin somethin?_

_Ian (8:55 AM): Love you, baby!_

_Mick <3 (8:56 AM): Thats better. Love you, too._

"Man, she was fucking hot!" Lip whispered as he handed Ian his coffee. 

"Not my type." Ian said, taking a sip of his coffee as the two men exited the hipster-filled coffee shop.

"'Cause you like dick." Lip chuckled, scowling at the taste of his coffee.

"Yes I do." Ian stated proudly. "I gotta get to work."

"Call me when you know if Mick's pregnant!" Lip called after Ian as the younger man walked towards the dispatch garage.

 

"How much longer?" Mickey nervously asked his sister as he chewed on his thumbnail. He hadn't told Ian he'd been feeling sick the last few mornings, more to spare his boyfriend's heart on the off chance he wasn't pregnant than anything else.

"Fifteen seconds. What're you gonna do if you're not pregnant?" Mandy asked, trying not to picture the deep depression Mickey had fallen into after losing his daughter five years ago.

"Keep tryin'." Mickey said simply, knowing he and Ian both wanted a child. "Time to face the fuckin' music." Mickey sighed as the timer on Mandy's phone went off, signaling that it was time for him to check the three pregnancy tests he'd taken just to be sure his results were correct.

"You guys can keep tryin', like you said." Mandy said, attempting to comfort her brother when Mickey stayed completely silent after checking the sticks. "Ian doesn't even know you thought you were pregnant."

"We're not gonna keep tryin'... I'm pregnant; all three of 'em are positive." Mickey murmured in complete amazement. Ian had done it; he'd gotten Mickey pregnant. "I'm gonna have a baby." Mickey was almost in fucking tears as he looked up at his sister.

"Holy shit, Mickey!" Mandy gasped, running to Mickey's side to pull her brother into a hug. "I'm gonna be an aunt!"

 

Ian couldn't wipe the smile off his face as he looked at the message Mickey had sent him just moments ago.

_Mick <3 (9:30 AM): [Multimedia Attachment] You're gonna be a Daddy, gallagher._

The picture was three positive pregnancy tests, and Ian felt like he could fucking shout from the rooftops in excitement. "What's with the smile, handsome?" Sue asked Ian as she walked towards the lockers.

"Mickey's pregnant; I'm gonna be a Dad." Ian said, smiling through his tears. "I'm gonna be a Dad." Ian was so fucking happy, and he couldn't wait to see his beautiful fucking boyfriend-the man pregnant with their baby-when he was done with work.


	10. Rain

Ian kept glancing at the clock for the rest of the day; all he wanted was to get home to his boyfriend and celebrate the fact that they would soon be parents. Unfortunately, however, time seemed to be moving slower than anticipated. When his shift finally- _fucking finally-_ ended, Ian practically ran out of the dispatch garage and to his car that he'd parked up the street before meeting Lip at Starbucks that morning, having to remind himself not to speed home to Mickey by calling said brunette.

 _"Don't fuckin' call me when you're drivin'."_ Mickey said when he answered the phone.

"Hello to you, too, my love." Ian sarcastically replied, cursing under his breath when he was stopped by a red light.

 _"Hi. Now hang up the fuckin' phone before you fuckin' wreck and don't even get to meet our kid."_ Mickey's words had Ian smiling, again.

"Shut the fuck up and make sure you're home when I get there." Ian ordered, making Mickey scoff.

 _"You ain't my fuckin' boss and I didn't agree to you this mornin'."_ Mickey reminded Ian, though Ian had seen in Mickey's eyes this morning that he secretly wanted to live with the handsome redhead.  _"I'm here, so don't fuckin' walk in poutin'."_

"Be home in a little bit. I love you." Ian knew his boyfriend-possibly better than anyone else on Earth-and knew that, despite Mickey's protests, he loved affection.

 _"Yeah, yeah, love your freckled ass, too, just hurry up."_ With that Mickey hung up the phone and left a rather amused Ian to silence.

 

"Hey, handsome." Ian whispered in Mickey's ear shortly after entering his apartment, only to find his boyfriend had fallen asleep on the couch with an empty bucket in front of him. "Morning sickness?" Ian guessed, soothing down Mickey's black hair down.

"Not as bad as last time." Mickey yawned. "Didn't think I'd fall asleep that fast."

"I stopped to pick up some food." Ian explained, tilting his head slightly towards the kitchen table where a bag of Chinese takeout sat. "Think you can eat?"

"Not meat." Mickey groaned as he sat up and stretched, giving Ian a quick glance at a stripe of creamy, pale flesh where his shirt rode up.

"Got you that rice you like, so you should be good." Ian assured Mickey, licking his lips as Mickey stood up, giving him a good look at that perfect, perky ass.

"Stop starin' at my ass." Mickey ordered with no heat behind it.

"Not my fault you've got a perfect ass." Ian defended, standing up to wrap his arms around Mickey's waist.

"Fuck off and feed your kid." Mickey chuckled, placing his hand on Ian's right cheek and turning his head to place a kiss on the other.

"Say it, again." Ian whispered, chasing after Mickey's lips.

"Your kid." Mickey murmured, taking Ian's hand and placing it over his still flat abdomen. "This baby? It's yours, Ian; ours. And don't kiss me, I was fuckin' pukin'; let me brush my fuckin' teeth a few more times."

"You already did?" At Mickey's nod Ian surged forward and kissed him. "Minty fresh."

"Freak." Mickey laughed, allowing Ian to pull him closer. "Let go so I can eat."

"Yes, dear." Ian sighed dramatically, releasing his hold on the smaller man so Mickey could go get some food.

 

"Fu _ck!"_ Mickey exclaimed, tightening his arms and legs around Ian as the younger man held him up, fucking him against the shower wall. Mickey was used to intensity when it came to sex with Ian-they were never gentle, after all-but this was so much more; there was more love and utter devotion in Ian's blown eyes than Mickey had ever witnessed in his life, even with barely any of that lovely green visible. "Ian! Ian, I'm..."

"Cum for me, Mick." Ian panted, moving his head just enough to mouth along Mickey's neck as Mickey moved his left hand to pump his cock, working the pillar of flesh until he was spilling his release onto their skin. "Fuck,  _fuck!"_ Ian chanted against Mickey's throat when the brunette's channel squeezed down on his cock, pulling his orgasm from him. "Shit, that was..." Ian didn't know what to say; intense? Amazing? Ian still wasn't sure what words encapsulated how he felt as he slowly sat Mickey back on his feet.

"Yeah." Mickey sighed, trying to hold himself up on his wobbly legs. "Holy fuck, man."

"Thought you'd like that." Ian chuckled, shampooing Mickey's hair lovingly.

"Hmm." Mickey hummed, repeating Ian's actions on the redhead. "Wasn't bad."

"Bullshit, that was awesome." Ian laughed, tilting his head back to rinse his hair. "God, the water pressure here sucks ass!"

"Worse at my old place." Mickey said, paying no attention to Ian as he rinsed the shampoo out of his hair. "What's with the fuckin' smile, Joker?" He asked when he looked back at Ian, seeing a wide smile on Ian's face.

"You said "old place"; that mean you're gonna stay?" Ian asked as he started washing Mickey's pale torso with the very masculine-scented body wash he kept in the shower.

"Got my clothes, today; put them in the closet before you got home. I didn't really have anythin' else." Mickey confirmed, looking down as he-yet again-copied Ian's action.

"Ana's stuff." Ian said in realization, feeling completely heartbroken for Mickey.

"Got rid of most of it-couldn't look at all the clothes and shit I got her and her not be there-but... I still had her crib and car seat; I never put the crib together and the car seat is still in the box." Mickey admitted, quietly. "Put 'em in the empty bedroom."

"Not gonna be empty, too long; gonna be the baby's room." Ian soothed, causing Mickey to smile as they continued to wash themselves down under the sub-par flow of water.

"Guess we're gettin' a second chance." Mickey said, still slightly sad at the loss of his first child, but also hopeful at the thought of the future with Ian and their unborn child.

"Gonna make the most of it." Ian promised, tipping Mickey's face up to kiss his full lips; to seal his promise.

 

"Always likes rain." Mickey said softly as they laid in bed, his head resting on Ian's chest and eyes towards the window as raindrops hit the glass.

"Why's that?" Ian asked, looking down at the brunette instead of out the window like Mickey was.

"Sorta an oxymoron; we need it to survive, but it could kill us no problem. It's pretty cool, when you think about it." Mickey stated calmly.

"You know what Oxymoron means?" Ian asks, gasping in mock surprise; he'd always known Mickey was smarter than he let on.

"Fuck you, asshole." Mickey laughed easily. "It's quiet, here."

"That a bad thing?" Ian questioned, know that he enjoyed the peace, himself, after years of living in his chaotic family home. He wasn't sure, however, if the silence would be over-bearing for the older man.

"I like it; could hear every fuckin' word my neighbors said in their place." Mickey replied gently, kissing over Ian's heart. "Can hear myself think, here." Ian nodded, deciding he should allow Mickey to enjoy the sights and sounds of the rain just outside their bedroom window.


	11. Gentle Love

When Ian had asked Fiona to meet him outside the dispatch garage to do him a huge favor, she jumped at the chance to help her sweet brother with whatever he needed. In the two weeks since Ian and Mickey had revealed they were expecting a child, Fiona had spent as much time with her brother and his boyfriend as possible, and this was yet another chance to see Ian; to see that dreamy smile he wore any time he thought of Mickey and their baby. "Hey, sweetface! What'd you need?" Fiona asked, rushing to hug Ian as soon as she stepped out of her car.

"Mick's mornin' sickness is pretty bad and I was wonderin' if you could go pick up some stuff for him." Ian explained, seemingly feeling guilty for calling to ask for her assistance.

"What do you need me to get?" She asked, holding her hand out for the list she knew her brother had made for her to follow. She wasn't disappointed, and Ian passed her a folded slip of paper.

  1. _Bananas_
  2. _Green tea_
  3. _Whole wheat crackers_
  4. _Coconut water_
  5. _Brown rice_
  6. _Watermelon_
  7. _Almond Butter_



"Doin' your research?" Fiona asked, pocketing the list as Ian pushed his credit card into her hand. "I can-"

"This is for my boyfriend; for my baby. I'm payin' for it." Ian said with finality. "Thanks for doin' this for me, Fi."

"No problem, sweetface." Fiona replied sweetly, kissing Ian's cheek before walking back to her car.

 

"Fiona?" Mickey croaked as he opened the door of the apartment he shared with his boyfriend, rubbing his tired eyes and staring at Fiona as she carried in shopping bags from the Whole Foods that had recently opened on the Southside into the apartment. "The hell is all of this shit?"

"Stuff Ian asked me to get you for your mornin' sickness, sweetie." Fiona said, unloading groceries. "Watermelons are fuckin' heavy, so I had Carl cut it and put it in some bowls to make it a little easier; no worries, everything was clean." Fiona explained, taking several lidded, plastic bowls filled with watermelon spears out of a shopping bag. "Got bananas, brown rice, whole wheat crackers, green tea-good substitute for coffee so you can get your caffeine fix-almond butter, and coconut water. Not sure what you'll like and what you won't, but Ian said this stuff would be easy on you."

"Don't jus' live off pizza rolls." Mickey replied, picking up the box of crackers and instantly popping one into his mouth. "Ian asked you to get all of this?" 

"He's been doin' quite a bit of research." Fiona said, smiling as she passed Mickey a bowl of watermelon spears. "He's real happy about the baby."

"Yeah; spent most of last night talkin' to my stomach before he fell asleep. Don't got the heart to tell him the baby can't hear his ass, yet." Mickey said with a fond smile as he ate a piece of watermelon. "Kid's gonna know his voice as well as they will mine by the time they get here."

"You nervous about it this time around?" Fiona asked, stealing a piece of watermelon from Mickey's bowl.

"Not as bad as I thought it'd be." Mickey replied quietly, taking another bite of the sweet pink fruit. "Thought I'd spend all fuckin' day worryin' about history repeating itself, but... I don't know. Guess I feel better just havin' Ian here."

"You want a boy or a girl?" Fiona asked as she wiped fruit juice off her chin.

"Boy; wanted a boy last time, too, until..." Mickey cut himself off, lowering his head and eating another cracker.

"You would've been a good Dad; you're  _still_ gonna be a good Dad when this little guy-or girl-gets here." Fiona assured the man as he rubbed his stomach. "Gonna be fuckin' beautiful, I can tell ya that much."

"Yeah." Mickey agreed with a smile, looking down at his flat abdomen. Fiona was right; his child would be absolutely beautiful. No doubt about it.

 

"Mick, I'm home!" Ian called as he entered the apartment he shared with his boyfriend.

"Hey." Mickey replied as he plated up some baked chicken, steamed vegetables, and brown rice. Despite his bitching about it, he liked being able to cook his boyfriend dinner at night before he left for the bar; dinner was some of the limited time they actually got to spend together.

"Smells good in here." Ian complimented, wrapping his arms around Mickey's waist from behind and sliding his hand under the brunette's shirt to stroke the skin of his abdomen.

"Sniffin' me don't tell you nothin' about the food, you fuckin' dork." Mickey laughed, struggling out of Ian's arms to sit down and eat. "Work okay, today?"

"Yeah. No druggies tried to break the fuckin' restraints and choke me out." Ian attempted to joke as he sat down and took a bite of his chicken. "Didn't know you could really cook, baby; this is fuckin' awesome!"

"Always cooked for Mandy when we were kids; had to make sure she ate all the shit she was supposed to-fruits, vegetables, shit like that-so I'd try new shit to get her to eat it." Mickey commented as if it were nothing as he ate his rice.

"Glad you can cook so our kid won't be livin' off pancakes and eggs." Ian replied, knowing Mickey didn't want what he said being made into a big deal. "Thank you, by the way; for bein' nice to Fiona when she was here, today. She knows she wasn't always the nicest to you, and it means a lot to her that you don't hold it against her." Ian said softly, reaching over and squeezing Mickey's free hand lightly.

"She was always just lookin' out for you; as far as I'm concerned? She didn't do shit wrong." Mickey said vehemently. "Even when we did shit different? We were somehow on the same fuckin' page."

 

"I like this one." Ian whispered in Mickey's ear as they laid on the couch, curled up in each other's arms with their legs tangled and Mickey's head on Ian's chest, listening to music coming through the blu tooth stereo-that they had synced up to Ian's phone-when Mickey went to change the song.

""Turns out that no one can replace me"" sounds like your ego's gettin' the better of you." Mickey laughed. He knew the song-so he had to fucking listen to Shawn Mendes when he was in the car with Mandy from time to time and didn't always hate it, fucking sue him-but it had always left him wishing he could still feel Ian's lips on his own.

"Reminds me I was a fuckin' moron to leave you; no one can replace you, Mick." Ian murmured, pulling Mickey closer to him.

"I gotta get ready for work, Ian." Mickey reluctantly whispered, wishing he could stay here with the man he loves all night.

"I wish we worked the same damn shifts; we barely get to see each other." Ian sighed dramatically. "Don't like goin' to sleep without you, baby."

"I know, but I gotta work." Mickey tried to reason, though he absolutely agreed with Ian. "Got a call about that restaurant job; my interview is Wednesday."

"You'll get it; Hell, they'd be fuckin' lucky to have you workin' there." Ian praised, lifting Mickey's chin to kiss his lips, softly. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"I love you." Mickey said, stroking Ian's cheek lovingly.

"I love you, too." Ian replied, smiling at the handsome brunette man. Mickey got up and slowly made his way to their bedroom, trying to decide how to tell his friend-and former lover-that he was planning to leave the bar that had brought them together. He knew Patrick had been unhappy with him taking Ian back-and had nearly stopped talking to Mickey all together when Mickey told the bar owner, Patrick's mother Loraine, he was pregnant-so he couldn't imagine how badly this would go. He just hoped they'd be able to stay friends, in some way. He doubted it, but he could always hold on to that small, sliver of hope.


	12. Bitter Aftertaste

"Well,  hey there, handsome!" Loraine Rice-a short, rather round, middle aged woman with kind brown eyes and a warm smile who had helped Mickey through some tough shit-called as he entered the bar. "How's married life?" Loraine joked, hugging Mickey as he stepped behind the bar.

"You know I ain't gonna marry no one until you decide to marry a gay man, gorgeous." Mickey playfully flirted-because fuck you, he actually really loved this woman in the purest sense of the word; she'd become the mother his own had never had the chance to be-as he stepped out of her hug.

"Oh, honey, if we get to share that pretty redhead who comes in here it's not a damn problem!" Loraine giggled, fanning herself for dramatic effect.

"Sorry, Lo; he's strictly into dick." Mickey shot back as he poured a drink for one of his regulars.

"Mickey! Hey, went to your apartment the other day and your landlord said you moved?" Patrick stated it as a question, but Mickey had no fucking idea what he was supposed to answer with.

"Moved in with Ian; you know? My boyfriend? Father of my child? Ringin' any bells?" Mickey asked in reply, feeling suddenly defensive, and he couldn't even blame it on his damn hormones. Before Mickey could finish pouring another drink he was being dragged into the storage room in the back of the bar. "What the fuck?!" Mickey demanded, pulling his arm free from Patrick's grip.

"You fuckin' moved in with him? You've been dating this guy for a fuckin' week!" Patrick yelled, throwing his arms in the air.

"I dated him for three fuckin' years, before. And we've been back together for a fuckin' month." Mickey said, wishing he could just go home to Ian instead of dealing with Patrick's shit, because he knew that-like him-Patrick had a temper and this could turn into a fist fight pretty damn fast; no fucking way was he putting his baby at risk, like that.

"And we were fuckin' for three months! Hell, if you wanted a fuckin' baby so bad you should've asked me!" Patrick yelled, causing Mickey's eyes to widen; what the Hell was Patrick talking about?

"We weren't ever goin' anywhere, Pat; we'd fuck and that was it... I didn't want anything else." Mickey tried to explain as calmly as possible.

"But you did with that motherfucker? The guy who knocked you up then dumped you? You named your daughter after my fuckin' Mom!" Patrick screeched as if bringing up Anastasia and Loraine would make Mickey second guess being with Ian.

"I love Ian; I wanted _his_ baby, because I fuckin' love him! And yeah, I named her after Lo 'cause she was the one who was fuckin' there for me when I lost Ana! She sat with me for fuckin' hours and collected money here so I could afford to burry my fuckin' baby when she died!" Mickey yelled, angrier than he'd ever been in his fucking life; how dare  _anyone_ try to use Anastasia against him in an argument. "I never even let you fuckin' kiss me."

"I wanted to fuckin' be with you!" Patrick shouted as the door to the storage room and Loraine entered.

"Patrick Marcus Rice!" Loraine yelled, moving to Mickey's side. "Leave the poor boy alone!"

"Mom, you knew I wanted to fuckin' date him!" Patrick shouted, moving to glare down at his mother.

"And I told you to back the fuck up 'cause he'd already been through enough!" Loraine shouted back, not at all phased by Patrick's much larger stature. "You remember how many fuckin' times I had to bail your ass outta shit for hittin' boyfriends? Well, I fuckin' do! And you're not doin' that to my Mickey!" Loraine turned to Mickey, offering him an apologetic smile. "Honey, you should head home."

"Are you fuckin' serious?! Mickey and I need to work this shit out!" Patrick demanded, grabbing Mickey's arm hard enough that he was sure it would leave a bruise. Mickey-never one to back down, even when pregnant-reared back and punched the fucker straight in the jaw, repeating the action-a sickening crunching sounds of his knuckles connecting with Patrick's skin and bone, and blood falling from the taller man's mouth-until Patrick released his arm. "Fuck, Mickey!"

"Never. Fucking. Touch. Me. Again." Mickey said, making sure Patrick knew he was serious before turning back to Loraine. "I'm leavin', Lo; I was gonna give you a few weeks, but..."

"I understand, Mickey." Loraine said softly, patting his cheek lovingly. "Bring your man and the baby by to see me, sometime?"

"I will." Mickey promised, snarling at Patrick before walking out of the storage room and the bar, ready to be back to the safety that was Ian Gallagher. 

 

"Mickey? What're you doin' home?" Ian blearily asked as his eyes opened after feeling a warm, calloused hand on his cheek.

"I quit." Mickey said simply, trying to hide his already bruised wrist. "Lo was cool about it; wants me to bring you and the baby by, sometime."

"I like Loraine; she takes good care of you." Ian murmured, rolling onto his back and holding out his arms for Mickey to join him in their bed. Mickey happily stripped down to his grey boxer briefs and crawled under the covers and curled up to Ian's side. "Missed you."

"I missed you, too, baby." Ian yawned, looking down at Mickey, jumping up and grasping Mickey's wrist, turning on the light to get a better look at the bruised skin than the streetlights outside the window provided. "What happened?"

"Nothin'." Mickey winced, trying to pull his arm away.

"Mickey, who the fuck did this?!" Ian demanded, angrily jumping out of the bed.

"Ian, baby, I handled it." Mickey said, standing up and moving to block Ian from exiting the room. "Patrick got pissed, and grabbed my arm; I knocked the shit outta him and left. He didn't hit me. I'm safe, and the baby is safe." Mickey soothed, showing Ian his bloodied knuckles. "Everything is fine, honey."

"If I ever see him, again..." Ian seethed through clenched teeth, wrapping his arms around Mickey's waist in an effort to calm himself. "I will fuckin' kill him with my bare hands."

"I know." Mickey whispered, pressing his forehead to Ian's. "But I'm fine."

"Don't like that he hurt you." Ian admitted, quietly. "I couldn't protect you."

"This ain't your fault, baby; I didn't know he wanted more, and he got pissed that I'm with you. But I told him I love you and want  _your_ baby; not just anyone's." Mickey explained, moving his hand to gently stroke Ian's cheek. "I love you, Ian."

"I love you." Ian sighed, kissing Mickey as softly as he could. "I love you, and I love our baby so fuckin' much." Mickey smiled against Ian's lips as he wrapped his arms around his neck.

"Say it again." Mickey demanded in what Ian could only describe as a fucking pur.

"I love our baby." Ian repeated, kissing Mickey once more before pulling him back into their bed and holding him close; protecting his family from the world.


	13. Old Faces

"Already told you I'd be there, Debs." Ian sighed as walked into the gas station with his phone to his ear.

 _"I'm just makin' sure you bring Mickey; every guy I date is complete shit. You and Lip aren't intimidating, Carl doesn't give a shit, Liam's a kid, and Fiona's track record is worse than both of ours put together."_ Debbie explained for what must be the millionth time since Ian answered his phone.

"Wow, thanks, Debbie." Ian sarcastically replied, waiting for the line at the register to move; he really should've stopped for gas on the way to work, this morning.

 _"I'm just saying, I need our friendly neighborhood thug to feel him out for me and tell him off if necessary."_ Debbie said in a sickeningly sweet voice.

"Alright, fine; I'll talk Mickey into it." Ian sighed, happy to see the line finally moving. "Gotta go, Debs. Love you."

 _"Love you, too; thank Mickey for me!"_ With that, Debbie hung up and Ian no longer had to listen to his sister beg for his boyfriend's help.

"For fuck's sake." Ian sighed, getting more annoyed with the teen behind the register and the broken fucking card reader on the pump for sticking him in this line.

"Sorry about the wait." The teenage boy-who couldn't have been older than sixteen-said with a nervous smile as Ian finally made it to the register.

"Fine, man." Ian replied, taking the twenty dollar bill out of his wallet and handing it to the kid. "Twenty on six." Ian said, feeling the exhaustion of the day setting in and making him want to hurry home to his boyfriend so he could just fucking sleep.

"Have a nice evening, sir!" The teen chirped as Ian turned to walk back outside.

"Should really look into a newer car; this thing was a piece of shit when you bought it." Ian's eyes snapped up from the message he'd been typing out to Mickey, only to find Trevor leaning against the side of his car. His silver 1998 Honda CRV was-admittedly-not the nicest car in the world, but it ran and that had been all Ian had needed when he bought the thing two years ago.

"Any reason you're standin' by my car?" Ian asked, stepping around Trevor to start pumping gas.

"I figured you would've changed your mind after a few days, but it's been over a month." Trevor said, completely ignoring Ian's question.

"I'm aware of that. Now, why are you standin' here?" Ian asked again, itching for a fucking cigarette-a vice he was trying to quit since Mickey had been forced to quit cold turkey by his pregnancy and Ian didn't want to go around his boyfriend smelling like it-simply out of irritation from being in such close proximity to his ex-fiancé.

"Pulled in to get a cup of crappy coffee before a meeting with some of my kids and saw your car; thought you might just not be ready to swallow your fucking pride, yet." Trevor replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Not the only person in Chicago who drives a CRV." Ian pointed out, wishing the damn pump would go just a little faster so he could get away from Trevor.

"Debbie's kid put snowflake sticker on your back window before we broke up; it's still there." Trevor pointed out, drawing Ian's attention to the sparkly snowflake sticker on the back window of the car. "So, why haven't you called me?"

"'Cause I don't want you back. Simple as that." Ian said with finality as he finished filling the gas tank and walking towards the driver's side door.

"Are you seriously still hung up on some ex fucking boyfriend? He left you!" Trevor shouted, causing an elderly woman at the next pump to stare at the two men.

"I'm not "hung up on an ex-boyfriend", Trevor; seems like that's you." Ian said, opening his door. "I'm going home. To my boyfriend. Bye Trevor." Ian could still feel Trevor's eyes on him as he climbed into his car and started driving away.

 

"You ever miss him?" Mickey asked Ian as they sat curled up together on the couch.

"No." Ian replied, looking down at where Mickey's head was laying on his shoulder. "Why would I?"

"Two years is a pretty fuckin' long time, man." Mickey stated, trying to stifle a yawn.

"I guess. Don't miss him, though; seein' him, again, just made me wonder what the fuck I saw in him, in the first place." Ian swore, smiling when he noticed how Mickey's hand lingered on his abdomen.

"Wasn't bad lookin'." Mickey said as nonchalantly as he possibly could.

"I guess, kinda prefer pale guys with pretty blue eyes, though." Ian whispered into Mickey's dark hair, taking in the comforting scent that Ian could only describe as  _Mickey._ "You smell better."

"Why the Hell are you always sniffin' me?" Mickey asked, pretending to be irritated with Ian, though Ian could feel the smile on his face against his shoulder.

"'Cause you smell fuckin' awesome. Now shut the fuck up and let me enjoy it." Ian sassed, earning him a snort of laughter from Mickey. 

"Whatever, tough guy." Mickey replied, allowing himself to soak in the warmth radiating off Ian's skin. "He's a social worker; definitely makes better money than I do." Mickey couldn't help it; he would always doubt himself. Despite making more money at his new job managing a small restaurant on the Northside, he would never be able to provide for Ian-take care of him, the way he wanted-the way someone with a college degree could.

"Don't give a shit; he's not my Mickey." Ian said, moving Mickey's face so he could look the brunette in the eyes. "He could be a fuckin' millionaire and it wouldn't mean shit, 'cause he's not who I wanna come home to at the end of the day."

"If you were with some fuckin' millionaire you wouldn't have to work." Mickey pointed out.

"No, but I like my job; I like bein' able to help people. And I like comin' home to you after work and telling you about my day." Ian said simply, leaning forward to peck Mickey's lips. "Trevor doesn't mean shit to me, so don't worry about it." Despite his better judgement, Mickey believed him. Mickey could see-based on the overly fucking sappy expression on Ian's face-that Ian truly believed coming home to Mickey after a long day was better than anything else, and that calmed a deep-seeded part of the older man that kept telling him he wasn't good enough; Ian thought he was, and that was enough, for right now.

 


	14. I Close My Eyes, And See Your Pretty Smile

_Ian was warm and comfortable, wrapped around the snoring figure of the brunette man at his side when he woke up. He looked down happily at Mickey, only to feel a cold chill running down his spine. Mickey had been showing when he fell asleep-his stomach just starting to expand and let the world know he was carrying their child-but now his stomach was completely flat; what the hell had happened to their baby? "Go back to sleep, asshole." Mickey mumbled, trying to pull Ian closer._

_"Baby..." Ian rasped, still staring at Mickey's flat stomach._

_"What?" Mickey asked without opening his eyes, clearly thinking Ian was calling out for him instead of talking about their baby._

_"W-where's the baby?" Ian asked, looking around for some sign that their child wasn't gone._

_"He's gonna fuckin' freak out on you if he hears you callin' him a baby." Mickey chuckled as he finally opened his eyes, seeing Ian's wide eyes. "What's up, man?"_

_"I... Just a weird dream." Ian replied with a shake of his head as he noticed a picture of himself, Mickey, and a small, brunette boy with a wide smile hanging on the wall._

_"You okay?" Mickey asked as he sat up and moved closer to Ian._

_"Yeah, I'm fine." Ian assured Mickey, leaning in to kiss him. "Gonna make sure the kid's still asleep." Mickey nodded, but still watched Ian closely as he left their bedroom. Ian walked slowly towards the second bedroom-the one that the couple intended to use for their child-and let out a relieved sigh when he saw a green triceratops sign with the name "Max" dangling from it hanging from the door. Ian opened the door-Max's door, he supposed-and was greeted by the sight of the once white bedroom, now painted a pale, mint green with dinosaur shelves hung all over the walls and a small, light colored wooden toddler bed-with the side rails still on-covered in blue and green dinosaur bedding, with a small head of messy black hair sticking out._

_"Papa?" A little voice snapped Ian out of his thoughts and back to the little boy slowly sitting up in his bed-his blue eyes illuminated by the nightlight-with his arms wrapped tightly around a blue Brachiosaurus._

_"Papa was just checking on you, bud; go back to sleep." Ian whispered, moving to tuck his son back in and kiss the boy's forehead. "Papa loves you, baby boy."_

_"Love you, Papa." the boy replied in a yawn as his blue eyes closed. And fuck, Ian was completely wrapped around this little boy's fingers._

 

Ian woke up with a start when his alarm clock started blaring, causing Mickey to mutter irritably in his half-asleep state. "Sorry, baby." Ian whispered, shutting the alarm off and kissing first Mickey's cheek and fallowed by his barely-there baby bump. "Morning, sweetheart."

"Kid's sleepin'." Mickey mumbled, brushing messy hair away from Ian's face. "What's with the smile?"

"Had a dream about the baby; we had a little boy... He looked exactly like you, Mick." Ian sighed, looking back at Mickey's adorable baby bump.

"What was his name?" Mickey asked, truly amused by Ian's happy demeanor. 

"Max." Ian said, turning his head to look up at Mickey. "Why?"

"Jus' wonderin'. I like it-Max-it's not bad." Mickey said with a shrug.

"So is that it? His name, is it gonna be Max?" Ian asked, not yet ready to get out of bed and leave his boyfriend.

"If he's a boy. Could work for a girl, too, though." Mickey replied, glancing at the clock to see how much longer he had to bask in Ian's attention.

"So Maxine for a girl, and, what, Maxwell for a boy? Or Maxton?" Ian asked, accidently letting Mickey know why he'd dreamt his son's name was Max. He'd been looking up names for weeks, and was actually really fond of the name Maxton.

"I like Maxton." Mickey said easily. The name was simple and-honestly-pretty fucking cute, and Mickey was glad to have Ian help him choose their child's name.

"Shit; I gotta go." Ian groaned, moving to quickly drop another kiss on Mickey's abdomen. "Take care of your Daddy, Max; Papa loves you." Ian moved up the bed to peck Mickey's lips, softly. "Love you."

"Love you, too." Mickey replied, sad to see Ian leaving for the day, already.

 

"So you gonna tell me my niece or nephew's name?" Fiona asked Mickey as she sat with him in his small office during his lunch break. Fiona was actually off work, today, and had decided to come see brother's boyfriend for awhile, which lead to Mickey admitting he and Ian had decided on a name that morning.

"Why the fuck should?" Mickey asked with a hint of a smirk on his lips as he took a sip of his bottled water.

"Because, asshole, I'm your favorite sister-in-law!" Fiona answered, clearly pleased with herself.

"Ain't married." Mickey said. In all honesty, he would marry Ian right this second if that was what Ian wanted, though Mickey wasn't sure if that was the case.

"Only a matter of time. Anyway, tell me Baby Gallagher's name!" Fiona begged, throwing herself down dramatically on the couch she'd been seated on.

"Max; Maxine for a girl and Maxton for a boy." Mickey said, trying not to laugh at Fiona's theatrics.

"I like it." Fiona said, holding her hand out for Mickey to take. "You and Ian? You two are forever, Mick; you're the kind of love story people dream of." Fiona assured the brunette man as he took her hand.

"Fucked up love story, man." Mickey joked, hoping he could blame the cracking in his voice on pregnancy hormones.

"Romeo and Juliet killed themselves 'cause their families were at war and they couldn't be together, Noah and Allie broke up and then Allie cheated on her fiancé with Noah, and Bonnie and Clyde were criminals; all love stories are messy. Yours is, too, but you two keep fightin'." Fiona said, easily.

"Who the fuck are Noah and Allie?" Mickey asked, ignoring the rest of what Fiona had said.

"We need to have a movie night." Fiona laughed with a fond shake of her head. "Point is, Max is just the beginning of a much bigger story." Mickey didn't want to admit it, but what Fiona had said was actually resonating with him; he wanted Max to be their new beginning. He wanted to move past every fuck up they'd had in their lives and start over with their child, and just be happy for once. So, why did he have a feeling that wasn't possible for Ian and himself?


	15. Baby Shower Time!

Mickey hated that Debbie and Fiona had somehow talked his fucking sister into this whole baby shower thing; Mandy had begged and begged Mickey to do it, and told him she was already planning her trip back to Chicago for the party "just so I can see you, Ian, and the peanut!" until Mickey finally caved and agreed to let the Gallagher women handle everything. "Hey, Mick, I got the cupcakes!" Debbie exclaimed as she entered Ian and Mickey's apartment the day of the baby shower with Franny close to her side.

"Guess Ian told you Max is a boy." Mickey chuckled when he saw the two trays of cupcakes Debbie and Franny had carried in-Debbie carrying a tray of cupcakes iced with Baby blue and Franny carrying Mint green cupcakes-all topped with little dinosaur figures.

"He had to! We had two themes, and I needed to know which one to use; Dinosaurs for a boy, and animals for a girl." Debbie explained, setting her cupcakes down before taking Franny's and setting them on the counter, as well. "Actually, Franny and Fiona wanted to do Butterflies for a girl, but I didn't think you'd go for that."

"Ain't wrong." Mickey agreed, rubbing his baby bump affectionately. He couldn't wait to meet his little boy; he felt as if he'd waited years to meet his little Max, and now he only had two and a half months until he got here.

"So, Fi's comin' over to help us get this place ready, and Lip's comin' to get you for an hour." Debbie informed Mickey, trying not to laugh at the way Mickey's eyebrows shot up. "Relax, Ian already told him to be on his best behavior."

"Asshole knows how to do that?" Mickey asked, making Franny giggle behind her little hands.

"Be nice, Mick." Debbie laughed, moving to kiss Mickey's cheek. Mickey would try to behave himself, today; the whole day was about Ian, Max, and himself, after all.

 

"How the Hell do you stay upright?!" Lip exclaimed as he and Mickey rode the elevator up to Ian and Mickey's floor. Mickey had spent the past hour at some steakhouse having lunch with Ian's brother, and it hadn't been completely terrible; Lip had actually made him laugh during the trip and asked questions about how Mickey was dealing with his pregnancy. Mickey would never say it out loud, but he actually had fun.

"No fuckin' idea." Mickey chuckled, resting his palms on his extended abdomen.

"Seriously, you're smaller than Monica was any time she got pregnant, but you're small as Hell when you're not pregnant." Lip commented, watching the man his brother loved affectionately rub his stomach.

"Ian thinks Max is gonna be a fuckin' monster." Mickey laughed, remembering Ian quietly telling their unborn son how he was going to be a fat little thing based on the size of Mickey's baby bump.

"Nah, he's gonna be small like you." Lip seemingly decided, smirking to himself as he imagined his brother apologizing to his son for believing the boy would be fat.

 

The baby shower wasn't completely terrible, either; the games were sort of fucking stupid, but the cupcakes Debbie made were fucking awesome and they got just about everything they'd need for Max, so Mickey considered it a success. Fiona bought them a wipe warmer, four cases of diapers, and an entire shipping crate filled with baby shampoo and soap. Lip bought them a hooded Dinosaur towel, four outfits that ranged in size, another case of diapers, and blue and green striped crib bedding. Debbie-aside from planning the party and making the desserts-bought the couple a "My First Year" photo album, several more outfits, and a green, second hand armchair for the nursery that Mickey decided was the most comfortable piece of furniture in their apartment.

Carl had went in with Kev and Vee to purchase a changing table, diaper genie, bottle warmer, and five more cases of diapers. Iggy-shocking the Hell out of everyone-brought some of the best gifts; a box full of clothes ranging in sizes, a white noise machine, a video baby monitor, a stroller, and-the gift that meant the most to Mickey-several photographs of Mickey with his mother. "Figured you'd like him to know he got all his good looks from the Milkovich side of the family." Iggy said, clearly embarrassed by his thoughtful gift.

"Okay, so... Since Liam's still too young to really buy anything himself, he went in with me." Mandy said, passing several wrapped boxes to Mickey, who quickly unwrapped all of them. Mandy and Liam had bought the young couple a Dinosaur mobile, a blue and white bassinet, six cases of diapers, fifteen different outfits, four pairs of baby shoes, a baby grooming kit, baby socks, and a set of velvety soft wash cloths. The couple thanked everyone before they left and spent the rest of the organizing their son's room with all of his new possessions. They were both happy with the way the night had turned out, and incredibly excited to meet their little boy in just a few short months.


	16. Stay Out Of My Life

Ian kept checking his phone on and off all day; Mickey had been having pains all night, and-while Mickey reassured Ian that he would be fine at home alone and would call if he was in labor-Ian was a paranoid mess. "Worryin' about your boy?" Sue asked, watching Ian as he checked to see if Mickey had texted him.

"His stomach was hurtin' all night." Ian nervously stated, chewing on his bottom lip. "I'm pretty sure Max is gonna be here before the end of the night." Despite being excited about the impending arrival of his son, Ian was worried that Mickey would rather go into labor-or possibly deliver their son without Ian-alone than bother Ian when he was working.

"A December baby." Sue said, smiling as she drove through the snowy streets of downtown Chicago.

"I'm ready to meet our little man." Ian sighed, smiling as he thought about the fact that he and Mickey would soon be parents. "The fuck is he doin' here?" Ian mumbled as he spotted Trevor standing outside the dispatch garage.

"No idea. Want me to get rid of him?" Sue asked, glancing at Ian out of the corner of her eye. She had never liked Trevor, and had been ecstatic to meet Mickey and see Ian in a happy relationship.

"I'll get rid of him." Ian said before jumping out of the rig and stomping through the snow towards Trevor. "What the fuck are you doin' here?" Ian questioned, glaring at the brown-eyed man.

"You blocked my number; how else am I supposed to talk to you?" Trevor asked, glaring right back at Ian.

"I blocked your number for a fuckin' reason; I wanted you outta my fuckin' life when I gave you your shit back!" Ian shouted, not caring if the people walking by stared at him. "I'm fuckin' done with you, Trevor! I'm happy and I'm about to have a fuckin' baby with the man I love! So get out of my fuckin' life!" Ian screamed, turning to walk away from Trevor when his phone rang in his pocket.

"Hello?" Ian answered, having forgotten to check the caller ID.

 _"Come home; the baby's coming."_ Was all Mickey had to say to have Ian rushing home so they could finally meet Max.

 

 _**Ian Gallagher:** _ _At 9:30 PM, Mickey and I welcomed our beautiful little man into the world. Meet Maxton Krew Gallagher; 5 lbs 8 oz, 18 inches of perfection. Daddy and Papa love you to the moon and back, Max. With- **Mickey Milkovich**_

Ian's facebook post was accompanied by a picture of Mickey looking down at the pale, redheaded baby boy in his arms, a wide smile on his face and tears in those beautiful blue eyes. "He's gorgeous." Ian praised, smiling at their son. "We made a beautiful fuckin' baby."

"He's perfect." Mickey agreed, brushing a single tattooed finger along Max's tiny jaw. "God, he's so fuckin' beautiful, Ian."

"I love you." Ian said, leaning in to kiss Mickey. "Marry me."

"You're on a fuckin' baby high or somethin', man; you can't be serious." Mickey scoffed, not believing Ian was actually serious.

"I've wanted to marry you since I was fifteen." Ian reminded Mickey as if that wasn't an obvious fact.

"What if you change your mind?" Mickey asked, looking back down at where Max was sleeping comfortably in his arms.

"Mickey..." Ian whispered, gently tipping Mickey's chin up to make the man look him in the eyes. "I am never going to change my fuckin' mind about you; I love you, and you're the only man I love. So, will you marry me?" Ian was actually nervous that Mickey would turn him down, or that he would decide that-now that he had the baby he so desperately wanted-he wanted nothing to do with Ian.

"You honestly think I'd fuckin' say no?" Mickey asked, smiling softly at Ian as the redhead swooped in to kiss him. "I love you."

"I love you, too. And Max." Ian replied with a soft sigh, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Max's head. He was fucking happy, and even seeing Trevor, today, wouldn't ruin this for him.


	17. Bitter Awakening

_**Ian Gallagher** _

_Works as **Emergency Medical technician**_

_Lives in **Chicago, Illinois**_

_Engaged to **Mickey Milkovich**_

Trevor was fucking furious as looked at Ian's facebook profile, seeing that he had changed his relationship status. He spent a good twenty minutes glaring at Ian's profile picture-a photo of Ian kissing the brunette man who had stollen his life on the cheek as the man laughed-with utter disdain. What the fuck made this man so special? He wasn't even fucking attractive; his skin was too pale, his hair looked as if it had been dyed black, and his facial features were much less attractive than Trevor's own.

He started scrolling down Ian's profile, seeing he had posted a new picture of Mickey with the baby he was claiming belonged to Ian-though Trevor had his doubts-laying on his chest in Ian's bed with a sickeningly fucking sweet caption.

_**Ian Gallagher:** Max has been a little cuddle bug with his Daddy all day, so Mick laid down with him for nap time. Love these two beautiful people so much. With- **Mickey Milkovich**_

His fucking family seemed to love this guy, too, if the comments on Ian's picture were anything to go by.

 _**Fiona Gallagher:** _ _Max is so precious! And Mickey, you're an amazing Daddy! Can't wait to see you three this weekend!_

 **_Phillip "Lip" Gallagher:_ ** _Miss you guys; I haven't seen Max since he was a week old. Definitely going to stop by, this weekend to see my little nephew._

 **_Veronica Fisher-Ball:_ ** _So sweet! Kiss Max and Mickey for me, Handsome!_

 **_Carl Gallagher:_ ** _Glad you and Mick are gonna get married. Best guy you ever dated._

 **_Debbie Gallagher:_ ** _I'm so happy for you three! You were both so happy when I stopped by this morning, and Max is such a sweet baby. Love you three so much!_

Trevor was aware that Ian's family hadn't liked him-probably because they couldn't understand him being a trans man or the fact that he didn't allow Ian to act like some uncultured swine-but they acted like this criminal was God's gift to mankind! This was complete bullshit, and Trevor was fucking bitter about all of it.

 

"Look at you, handsome boy!" Ian cooed, looking down at his son in his little bathtub. "Look at those cute little toes!" He sang, nibbling on Max's tiny toes.

"Don't eat the baby." Mickey chided from the doorway.

"But he's just so sweet." Ian cooed, again, picking Max up from his bath. "Was that a nice bath, Maxy?" Ian asked as he gently dried Max's soft, freckled skin. "Papa's little man loves his bath time!" Max made a sweet little sound that had both parents gasping in awe at the small human being pressed tightly to Ian's chest. "Are you tryin' to talk to Daddy and Papa?"

"Hard to believe he's almost a month old, already." Mickey commented, kissing Max's nose as he took the baby into his arms to dress him for bed.

"He's gettin' so big." Ian sighed, helping Mickey by slipping a pair of Mickey Mouse socks-that matched his Mickey Mouse footie pajamas Lip got him as a joke-onto Max's little feet. "You ready for bed, Max?" Max let out a squeaky yawn that seemed to answer Ian's question.

"Let's get you laid down, Daddy's little Chipmunk." Mickey sighed, lifting Max up higher in his arms and carrying him towards the nursery.

 

Ian couldn't get to sleep, tonight; he wasn't manic or anything, his back was just hurting from a patient-who was high on something Ian couldn't identify-trying to attack him, causing him to fall backwards. Not wanting to keep Mickey up more than was absolutely necessary-given he normally chose to nurse Max over pumping-he chose to slip out of bed and sit in the living room, going through Facebook as he waited for the ibuprofen he'd taken to kick in and ease the pain in his back. Ian was halfway through a photo album Mickey had made on his own facebook titled "Maxton Gallagher" when his phone chimed, indicating he had a message waiting for him in messenger.

_**Trevor Wayne Fletcher:** I'm fucking pissed off. We just broke up and you're fucking engaged to someone else?! Why the fuck would you embarrass me like that?! And your fucked up, white trash family liking the piece of shit you're marrying when they refused to accept me for who I am? Fuck those assholes! I'm fucking glad I didn't marry into your backwards ass family!_

Ian rolled his eyes at Trevor's message, wondering-not for the first time-how the fuck he'd spent two years with that man. He was so self-centered and took everything as a personal attack on him. Ian didn't want to-he really didn't-but he found himself replying to Trevor.

_**Ian Gallagher:** First off, we broke up over a year ago. Second, I've been in love with him since I was fifteen years old. Third, if you had made any effort to get to know my fucking family without attacking them or jumping down their throats, they would have fuckin' accepted you. So don't call my fucking family trash or act like they're not accepting when they've accepted me as a bipolar gay man, my brother as a recovering alcoholic, my younger sister as a teenage single mother, and my younger brother as a former fucking drug dealer._

_The problem in our relationship was you. And as for embarrassing you? Fuck off, Trevor; my life with my fianceé and son has absolutely nothing to fuckin' do with you, so stay the Hell out of my life like I've asked you to more than once._

Ian felt liberated after sending that message to Trevor; things he hadn't yet gotten out had been relayed through that message, and he was fucking happy he'd finally said it.

"Hey." Mickey mumbled as he walked out of the master bedroom, rubbing his tired eyes. "Rolled over and you weren't in bed." Mickey yawned, sitting on the couch next to Ian. "Back still hurtin'?"

"It's easin' up." Ian whispered, wrapping his arm around his husband. "Surprised Max isn't up wantin' somethin' to eat, yet."

"Kid's a little pig, I swear." Mickey chuckled, resting his head on Ian's shoulder only to see the conversation between Ian and the motherfucker he had been with when they'd first reconnected. "What an asshole!"

"Yeah, I know." Ian groaned, wishing Mickey hadn't seen those messages. "He's a gem, right?" Ian joked, kissing Mickey's forehead.

"You know what? I need to say somethin' to him." Mickey said, extending his hand towards Ian who laughed and passed his phone over, wondering what Mickey would say. "Fucker sent you another message."

"What'd he say?" Ian asked, knowing he could trust his husband with his facebook.

""You really believe this shit is gonna work? That he'll stick around when he left your ass once?!" Damn, he thinks he's the fuckin' king of the world, don't he?" Mickey asked as he started typing out his message to Trevor. "Max is up." Mickey said as he heard their son whimpering, passing his phone back to Ian before standing up to go feed Max as Ian read what he'd written.

_**Ian Gallagher:** Hey, this is Mickey; Ian's Fianceé. I want to make this really clear to you, fuck face: I'm not leaving my fucking fiancé. You feel like his family was fucking mistreating you or some shit, but you don't seem to fucking understand that you're acting like an asshole to everyone and it makes people not want to be around you. And trust me, I get that; that was me seven years ago._

_So stop playing the victim, and leave my damn man alone._

God, did Ian fucking love this man; even when he was telling Trevor to fuck off, he was compassionate. Ian was suddenly ready to go to bed, so he looked in on Mickey as he finished nursing Max, smiling softly as he burped the infant. "I'll change him and get him back to sleep; you go back to bed." Mickey nodded and passed Max off to Ian and exited the nursery.

It didn't take long for Max to fall asleep with a full stomach and a clean diaper, so Ian was able to join the man he loved in their bed before Mickey fell asleep, so they could curl up together and fall asleep in each other's arms. Ian was happy, and when he was in Mickey's arms? He finally felt like he was home.


	18. Can't Go Back

They were married; Mickey had actually fucking married Ian Gallagher! How the fuck was this his life? How was he so fucking ecstatic as Ian placed kisses all over his face as they stood in the Alibi with their family and friends snapping hundreds of pictures of the Newlyweds. The couple had decided against a wedding, but had allowed their sisters to plan them a reception so everyone could help them celebrate their marriage.

"Aye! Fiona's got somethin' to say, asswipes!" Mandy shouted as Fiona walked to stand next to the pool tables.

"You two didn't want a wedding, but I was at the Courthouse with you when you got married. I've never seen my little brother as happy as he is with you, Mickey, and I'm so glad you gave him another chance. Ian, you looked like you were in a fog for so long, and when you found Mickey, again? It was like a blind man seein' light for the first time. So, here's to the happy couple; welcome to the fuckin' Gallagher family, Mickey!" Fiona tearfully cheered, taking a drink of her wine as everyone hooted their agreement.

"Me next, I guess." Mandy nervously chuckled, moving to stand in Fiona's place. "Ian was my best friend before he fell for my brother, so I got to see both of them become better versions of themselves; I saw Mickey become more honest about who he is, become more comfortable in his own skin, and-most of all-I saw the sweet fuckin' version of Mickey I thought had died with my mom wake up. And Ian? I saw him realizing he wasn't just invisible to everyone. I thought they would bring out the worst in each other, but they bring out the best every damn time.

"So Ian, thank you for puttin' up with my asshole brother at his worst, and lovin' him at his best. And Mickey, thank you for always havin' my best friend's back and loving him through the worst moment of his life, and for giving him a second chance. To Mister Ian Gallagher and Mister Mikhailo Gallagher!" Mandy shouted, happily downing a shot of vodka as she pulled Ian to the makeshift "center stage" to make a speech.

"When I was fifteen years old, I fell in love with Mickey, and at twenty-two years old I married him. I can't imagine spendin' the rest of my life with anyone else. Mick, you can drive me fuckin' crazy, but you can also make me the best version of myself. You gave me a beautiful fuckin' son, and you loved me when I couldn't love myself. I love you, baby; here's to the rest of our lives." Ian pulled his husband to him and kissed his cheek as everyone cheered.

"I love you." Mickey mumbled, wrapping his arms around his husband's neck. He didn't need to make a speech; he just needed Ian to know how much he loved him.

 

"Thanks for helpin' me get him home." Mickey grunted as he helped his drunken husband stumble into the apartment with Lip close behind him, carrying Max's car seat with the sleeping infant inside.

"Not a problem." Lip said, setting the car seat on the couch and taking his nephew out of it. "Debs said he was a fuckin' angel all night."

"He's a pretty calm baby; he never really cries." Mickey said as he helped Ian sit in the armchair. "You okay, babe?"

"Hmm, my husband's gonna be pissed if he hears you callin' me babe." Ian slurred, letting his head drop back. "I don' like it, either."

"Oh yeah?" Mickey asked, trying not to laugh. "Sounds like he's an asshole."

"He's the best; he's so funny, an' smart, an' pretty... I love 'im." Ian slurred with a sappy smile. "We jus' got married, you know?"

"Congratulations." Mickey chuckled softly.

"Thanks. He's the love of my life. We got a baby-Max-an' Mickey's the best Daddy." Ian whispered, still believing he wasn't talking to Mickey. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Sure." Mickey said, looking cautiously at Lip who just shrugged.

"'Fore I found Mick, again, I was so fuckin' miserable... I didn' wanna be 'live." Ian slurred, though Mickey felt like he was going to cry. "I was too scared to be 'lone an' I had a fiancé I didn' love; all I wanted was to jus... Go 'way."

"Hey, Mickey asked me to help you get to bed so he can get Max to sleep. He said he'd be in, soon." Mickey lied, which had a teary-eyed Lip chuckling.

"'Kay." Ian murmured, standing up and staggering to the bedroom.

 

"Did you know he was suicidal?" Mickey asked Lip after he put Max to bed and ensured Ian was asleep.

"I knew he wasn't happy, but I didn't think it was that bad." Lip sighed, holding his head in his hands. "Thanks, Mickey."

"For what?" Mickey asked, not sure what he'd done.

"For givin' my brother back to us." Lip said, patting Mickey's shoulder as he stood up and exited the apartment.

 

"Hey, baby." Ian yawned as Mickey crawled into the bed with him.

"Hey. Go back to sleep, okay?" Mickey whispered, moving to kiss Ian's cheek and curl into his husband to go to sleep. He would talk to Ian about his confession in the morning, but for tonight? He just wanted to hold Ian.


	19. The Talk

Mickey woke up early, nursed Max, made a pot of coffee, and crawled back in bed with Ian, laying Max on the matress between them. The baby was happily kicking his legs while making little squeaking noises as Mickey rubbed his chubby stomach and watched Ian slowly join the waking world. "He's in a good mood." Ian murmured, his eyes still closed as he reached out to touch his son's little hand.

"'Course the little chunk is; as soon as he woke up he got his breakfast." Mickey chuckled, kissing Max's hand when the infant reached up and touched his face. "How're you feelin'?"

"Like shit. How much did I drink?" Ian yawned, finally cracking his left eye open to look at his husband and son.

"More than Fiona, less than Mandy." Mickey said with a shrug. "You remember anything after we got home?"

"No. Why? Did I say somethin' stupid?" Ian asked, wondering if he'd said something that embarrassed his husband.

"I called you babe and you said your husband was gonna be pissed if he heard that. Good thing is, I know you love me 'cause you said it about ten times." Mickey said, trying to keep his voice level. "You were talkin' about how fuckin' great I am and said you didn't wanna be called babe 'cause your husband is the best."

"Oh, so aside from me not knowin' who you were I was the same." Ian joked, though he clearly had a horrible fucking hangover.

"For the most part." Mickey replied, taking a deep breath to prepare for the next part. "Why didn't you tell me you were so low when you were with that Travis asshole?"

"What?" Ian asked, both eyes snapping open when he heard Mickey's words. What all had he told his husband?

"You told me you wanted to die." Mickey whispered sadly. "Why would you want that?"

"I don't know... I felt like it'd be better than this... Emptiness I felt for so long." Ian admitted, looking down at his son. "But I'm good, now; I don't feel empty, anymore."

"Ian... Baby, if you feel like that, again-" Mickey was cut off by Ian leaning over him with a fiery intensity in those beautiful green eyes.

"I'm good, Mick. I promise." Ian whispered, stroking Mickey's cheek. The couple maintained eye-contact until a sweet, squeaky little laugh caused both men to snap their attention to the baby laying between them.

"He's laughing." Mickey whispered in complete awe, quickly sitting up and taking Max into his arms. "Hi, sweetheart!"

"God, I love that fuckin' sound." Ian whispered, still amazed by the sound of his son laughing. Sure, he was hungover as fuck and had just discovered he'd admitted his darkest secret to Mickey in a drunken stupor, but his little boy being so happy? It made the whole morning just a little brighter.

 

By the time Mickey and Ian had put Max to bed the boy had seemingly realized that laughing got his parents' attention away from whatever else they were doing, and spent the whole day giggling. "Wonder if he's really that happy or if he's just a ham." Ian mused as he and Mickey got dressed for bed after their shower.

"He's a Ham like his Papa." Mickey joked as he pulled a shirt over his head, causing his damp, black hair to ruffle in an adorable way.

"You sayin' I'm cute when I try to get your attention?" Ian asked, flopping onto the bed with a broad smile on his face as he looked at Mickey's messy hair.

"Max is." Mickey jokingly replied, laying himself down on top of Ian. "Sleep now."

"Kiss me goodnight, asshole." Ian ordered, looking down at Mickey, waiting for his kiss.

"Fine." Mickey sighed, looking up and kissing Ian softly. "Goodnight."

"Night, baby." Ian whispered, happily hugging Mickey and going to sleep with the man he loved laying against his chest.


	20. Epilogue

**Eight Years Later**

****Over the course of six years Ian and Mickey had added two more children to their family; their only daughter-Harlow Rue Gallagher-was born when Max was three and a half, and their youngest son-and only brunette or green eyed child-Cian Lawson Gallagher, was born just after Max turned six. The family had moved into a quaint little three bedroom brick bungalow just outside of Chicago when Mickey was still pregnant with Harlow, and were happier than ever by the time Max's eighth birthday rolled around. "Happy birthday, to you! Happy birthday, to you! Happy birthday, dear Maxton! Happy birthday, to you!" The entire Gallagher/Milkovich/Ball family sang as Max blew out eight candles on his birthday cake with a wide, dimpled smile on his face as he pushed his glasses back up his nose.

"Can you fuckin' believe he's already eight years old?" Ian asked his husband as they watched Mandy-heavily pregnant with her and Lip's second child-serve all of the children a slice of cake.

"God no." Mickey said, trying not to laugh as Harlow smeared icing on Carl's face. "Seems like yesterday we were pickin' out his name."

"Now we have two more little monsters." Ian joked, allowing Cian to shove a bite of cake into his mouth. "Thank you, Mousy."

"We did pretty good, huh?" Mickey asked as he helped Harlow wipe the red and blue icing from Max's Spiderman cake off her chin.

"Never doubted we would." Ian said softly, leaning in to kiss his husband's cheek. "We made a damn good lives for ourselves. And for them."

"Stop bein' all fuckin' affectionate and eat your cake; Max wants to open his birthday presents!" Vee exclaimed, winking playfully at the eight year old.

"Harlow's gonna eat your cake if you don't, Dad." Max offered, pushing his glasses up, again; the damn things could never seem to stay put on his face.

"Okay, okay, we get it." Mickey laughed, ruffling his son's hair. Ian couldn't believe that-just nine and a half short years ago-he'd been ready to give up his chance to be this happy; his chance to have a life he wouldn't trade for the world. This was all he'd ever wanted, and he had it with the best person he could think to share the rest of his life with.

**Author's Note:**

> I had a dream about what would have happened in this series if Ian never read Mickey's letter, and if Max wasn't their first child. Let me know what you guys think! Much love!


End file.
